


I Will Carry You

by okay_pretender



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: F/F, How Do I Tag, Lesbians, One Night Stands, Rarepair, Rule 63, and it shows, fem!Declan Lynch, fem!Swan, gay brain: what if they're girls, gratuitous use of pet names, mentions of Skov/Swan, sporadic use of the enter key, this was written at 12:30am
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:27:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23511559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/okay_pretender/pseuds/okay_pretender
Summary: Deirdre Lynch has been through a lot lately. Swan helps her unwind.(this is really too soft for either of them, but I think they both deserve nice things in life)
Relationships: Declan Lynch/Swan, Skov/Swan (Raven Cycle)
Kudos: 15





	I Will Carry You

**Author's Note:**

> So it appears I only write rarepairs. Exactly nobody ships these two, and I don't really ship it either, my brain just went: I'm tired, what if Swan/Declan *and they're both GIRLS* and I said "okay". The things that happen when you're sleep-deprived. If you're still with me and you even found this in the first place, yay! You get a cookie. If you kudos or comment, you get MORE cookies. (Kidding. I can't bake. The only thing I can do is write rarepair lesbians.) Title is from Ruelle's Carry You

Deirdre Lynch had said about two words to Swan the whole time they’d roomed together at Aglionby. She kept to herself, which was fine by Swan. K had once draped herself all over the room, smelling like weed and booze and bad decisions, just to piss Swan off when she was still testing the limits of her pack. They were through that phase now, but the only thing Lynch had done when she came back from church was wrinkle her nose and change the sheets. She’d done it for Swan’s bed, too, almost like she understood that while Swan was one of K’s, she wasn’t in thrall like the others were, like Proko, like Skov. Swan would have liked to hang out, she thinks, before what had happened to the Lynch girls’ father. If Deirdre had been a little friendlier. If she hadn’t seemed so stoic and unapproachable.

She wasn’t stoic now.

It was two weeks past the murder. Niall Lynch, found dead in his driveway with a tire iron through his skull. Aurora, comatose. Deirdre still in high school, but now legal guardian of her sisters, taking care of McKenna when she broke down in class, chasing after Rowan who seemed to be spiraling out of control. Deirdre wasn’t one to complain about anything- homework, tests, the prospect of adulthood. She never griped about her family like so many jaded Aglionby girls did.

She never cried.

Swan always entered and exited rooms quietly. She didn’t like to make a big show of her presence, and her height (from genetics) and breadth (from the swim team) usually did the announcing for her. So Deirdre didn’t hear her enter their room. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll take care of shipping and handling, I’ve got a guy in Richmond who can set up the transfer.” The caller said something that made Lynch look furious, more emotion than Swan had ever seen on her face, but she just answered in a bland tone, “Thank you for your concern. Good night.” She hung up the phone, still facing the curtains over their third-floor window, and slumped down on her bed. She shuddered a sigh that seemed to come from her very bones, and Swan considered leaving her alone and coming back when she’d composed herself, set back up the all-American girl surface that kept anyone from looking further, but Lynch flopped back on the bed and saw her standing there.

“I’m sorry, I- do you need a minute?”

Lynch sprung upright, using the second before she turned around to swipe at the tear tracks on her face. “No, that’s quite alright, I’m fine.”

Swan’s used to hearing that. From Jiang, when their parents still use the wrong pronouns over Skype and their face takes on that pinched expression. From Proko, when K’s out mooning after the least approachable Lynch sister. From Skov, her own girlfriend, when she’s hungover and still shaking from whatever K dreamed up for her to take. She wishes she could educate Jiang’s parents, shake some sense into K, get Skov clean so she’ll never be dependent again. Swan is tired of people telling her they’re fine.

She makes a decision.

Swan crosses the room and sits on Lynch’s bed. She’s considerably larger than the other girl, and this is the closest they’ve ever been to each other in three and a half years of sharing a space. Lynch seems uncomfortable, but she also seems like no one’s _comforted_ her yet, and she just lost her parents and very possibly influence over her sisters in the span of two weeks. She can’t hold this up forever.

Swan wraps an arm around her. She’s not great at comforting people, but she doesn’t think Lynch needs to hear overused platitudes and empty words right now. 

“I’m not putting up with the crumbling facade and the sleeplessness and the holding back tears for half a year. You want to let it out now while you got someone here with you, or do you want to lose it at Rowan in front of everyone tomorrow?” She saw K’s latest text, and it’s definitely the middle Lynch at a tattoo parlor doing something fucked-up to her back. And was that a new piercing? She decides not to lay that on Deirdre right now. Let her sister throw that grenade. Deirdre shakes out a laugh, eyes bright, and almost invisibly curls into Swan. Swan sees it and holds her tighter, and that’s when the tears come. Swan just nods and rubs her palm up and down Lynch’s arm. Lynch is trying to stifle her sobs, but words come out on top of it. She’s just whispering, like she can’t help it, “...out of control… dream dealers… McKenna’s one of Rowan’s… I _can’t_...” as though she’s forgotten Swan can hear her. Swan doesn’t know or care what Lynch is saying, but it sounds like grief isn’t her biggest problem. She sounds, for the first time Swan’s heard it, stressed.

When Swan’s stressed, she goes to one of K’s substance parties. She races Proko down the main strip in Henrietta. She heads to Skov’s room and they lock the door.

Lynch has probably never done drugs or broken the speed limit. She doesn’t seem the type to want to.

This seems like a situation a locked door can fix.

Swan reaches for her phone without interrupting Deirdre’s breakdown. 

_Might fuck a Lynch tonite_ she types out one-handed.   
_rowan’s out w/ k and u woudnt anyway, wut’s going on comes_ Skov’s reply.   
_Not her. My roommate_  
 _lol go 4 it ill just top proko_

Swan’s not sure that’ll distract ever-jealous Prokopenko from K’s latest infatuation, but Skov’s welcome to try. Deirdre Lynch is still sitting in Swan’s embrace, looking less teary and more angry. “Going through the whole range of emotions in one night, I see. That make up for the other 364 days?” Lynch scowls at her. Swan can’t help but think it’s cute, if only because she isn’t the one Lynch is really mad at. She doesn’t know how Rowan can withstand her sister’s disapproval, honestly. Or the person who’d been calling when Swan walked in. Deirdre Lynch is not someone who will tolerate being fucked with or bossed around. Swan’s hoping that, just for tonight, she’ll let Swan take control. She shifts them a little on the bed so they’re face-to-face. 

“I don’t care if you sob on my shoulder all night long, but if you’re in the mood, there are other ways I can help you get… release.” She keeps the suggestive wink and lick of her lips out of the offer. Lynch won’t be as receptive to that as the pack would. She’d see it as disrespect rather than seduction. Lynch purses her lips, but she doesn’t say no. She closes her eyes and leans into Swan while she decides, Swan doesn’t think she knows she’s doing it. “We can, or we can pretend this never happened and I’ll order takeout. No pressure, your choice.” When Lynch opens her eyes, Swan can see “fuck it” as clearly as though it were written across her irises. She cups Lynch’s face in her hand and kisses her softly, letting Lynch set the pace.

And the pace is _hungry_.

Swan grins against Lynch’s lips. She’d been hoping for this attitude. Lynch didn’t seem the type to fall apart for long. Though maybe this was her falling apart.

She licks into Lynch’s mouth and is rewarded with a short gasping moan before it’s cut off. “Such restraint,” Swan murmurs. “Don’t hold back, baby, let me hear you,” she wanted to take Lynch apart tonight, break through that polished exterior. If she’s honest, she’s wanted to do so for three and a half years. 

She’d said as much to Skov once, on one of the rare occasions she’d allowed herself to get high. Skov had asked if Swan just wanted her to be more of a challenge. “Nah, doll, I like it when you’re easy. I’m just saying, one night with Lynch, see what she really sounds like…” Skov had agreed. 

Swan almost wishes Skov were here, to give Lynch something to break her focus. Swan’s kisses have gotten more aggressive, and Lynch is giving as good as she gets, but Swan wants to watch her melt. Skov has a way of doing that for people, sliding between Swan’s strength and the other girl’s body and finding her favorite places with instinct. Swan’s a little more blunt.

She takes Lynch by the waist and presses her into her bed. Lynch’s legs fall open in surprise, and Swan gets one of her own thighs in between. She leans back down, still kissing Lynch within an inch of her life, still holding her in a solid grip to let her know Swan won’t leave her stranded tonight. Lynch is still in her church clothes, a modest button-up and a pencil skirt. Swan’s used to Skov and Proko’s… less decorous style of dress, so she gets the first few buttons open and lets Lynch undo the rest herself. Then she moves her mouth from Lynch’s lips, now swollen and wet, to her throat. She runs a thumb over Lynch’s bottom lip and bites down gently on the tender skin of her neck at the same time, and this time Lynch doesn’t cut off her moan. 

“You sound good, baby,” she croons, just to see Lynch’s pale cheeks blush at the pet name. “You gonna taste just as good for me?” Blush intensifies. Swan makes a mental note; Lynch is eager for her mouth in more ways than one. She keeps going, leaving a hickey right over Lynch’s sternum, low enough that no one will see it but enthusiastic enough that she’ll remember this encounter for a while. She brushes her fingertips down Lynch’s ribcage to watch her shiver, whispering praise and dirty promises. Her hands snake around to unclasp Lynch’s bra; Swan uses the opportunity to steal another kiss from her lips before moving her mouth to Lynch’s exposed breasts, the skin pebbling with anticipation. Lynch arches her back and grips the bedcovers beneath her, writhing when Swan slips the hand not entangled in her hair down below the waist of Lynch’s skirt. She’s gentle at first, teasing, enjoying the heightened response this is producing from her straitlaced roommate. 

Then Lynch looks her right in the eye, grabs her wrist, and shoves her hand down further. Swan grins. “Where’ve you been hiding that attitude?” she asks, moving her fingers faster.   
She’d been fine with leaving Lynch’s shirt mostly on, but she has other ideas for the rest of her clothes. “Tell me how much you like that, babe. Feel good?” Lynch nods a few times, quickly, but Swan wants words. “Tell me.” Lynch screws her eyes shut, like she can either admit this is happening verbally or acknowledge it visually but not both at once, and gasps out, “Yes… don’t stop…” Swan’s got her past hesitancy, then. She goes for it: “How would you feel about my mouth on you instead?” Lynch opens her eyes, and her gaze is molten. “Good” She makes quick work of the zipper on Lynch’s skirt and removes her sheer tights simultaneously, leaving downward trails with her tongue as she goes. She settles Lynch’s gorgeous legs over her shoulders and both girls take a moment to admire one another’s bodies in this position. Swan leaves sucking kisses along Lynch’s thighs, saying, “That’s it, good girl, open up for me,” the kinds of things she says to Skov that usually make her girlfriend scoff and act like more of a brat to see if Swan will do anything about it. Lynch is different, though, and she seems to like the encouragement. 

Swan wonders if anyone’s ever treated her like this. Lynch’s type seems to be uninteresting girls who couldn’t top to save their lives, and she never dates long enough for Swan to suspect there’s any significant action going on. Now, under Swan’s hands and lips and tongue, she’s radiant. Her skin is flushed, and her mouth looks so inviting as she’s panting out Swan’s name that Swan would head back up there if she weren’t in the middle of getting Lynch’s toes to curl over her shoulders, fingers twisting in the sheets, head tilting back to expose her throat when she can’t hold back her moans. When Lynch’s thighs are trembling around her and she’s slick enough to leak onto the covers, Swan twists her tongue, licks all the way up, presses her lips to Lynch’s soft flesh and gives a moan of her own right up against her center. Lynch’s body shudders around Swan’s head as she comes. Swan kisses her through it, fingers smoothing down her legs. 

Once Lynch settles, Swan pulls back and heads to their bathroom for a washcloth and a bottle of water. She tucks herself up behind Lynch and holds the water to Lynch’s mouth. She seems surprised, but drinks gratefully. “Haven’t you ever bottomed before?” Lynch mutters, “No,” in reply. “Too bad. You’re gorgeous like this. I guess I should be honored I’m the only one who’s seen it.” Lynch doesn’t seem to know what to do with that. She takes another sip of water and then sets it aside. Swan tugs the bedclothes over them both as Lynch snuggles back against her chest. They both know that this ends in the morning. They’ll pretend it never happened. Lynch will return to handling her parents’ estate and making deals with shady people and wrangling her sisters, and Swan will go back to the delicate balance of hanging out with K and still trying to graduate. They will likely never speak again.  
~  
Swan wakes up in Lynch’s bed. The bathroom door is closed and the water’s running. Swan gets up, smooths out the covers, and waits for Lynch to emerge. When she does, freshly showered and impeccably dressed, they don’t make eye contact or speak. Lynch leaves for first period Calculus, and Swan for her open with Skov and Jiang.

“What was she like?” Jiang greets her.

“Good morning to you, too.” She pointedly ignores the question and kisses her half-asleep girlfriend hello. Skov’s never fully awake until noon. She’s awake enough to ask, though. 

“What was she like, babe?” Swan doesn’t feel like going into the details all the other girls do when they enjoy a night with someone else, usually at K’s behest so she can blackmail them into a drug deal or a street race. “She was… louder than expected.” They pestered her with more questions, but she didn’t say any more. Later on, she heard Deirdre hadn’t reacted at all to Rowan’s latest ink.


End file.
